Fortune Cookie
by Zaicheeky
Summary: Two sentences on a tiny scrap of paper ends in change. JacksonLilly


[**Fortune Cookie**]

**A/N**: Lilly Jackson should have happened. I'm not letting it go. I'm not letting it go no matter how many stones the **HM** writers throw at us. If nothing else "**He's Not a Hottie; He's My Brother**" provided me with a super cute base to make an avatar out of. You just always have to look on the bright side of things.

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When it came time to pay no-one was as surprised as Lilly to see Jackson's hand reached to accept the small black tray from their oriental server. (Probably because Miley knew from experience what he was really after and Oliver was too busy picking his teeth with his chopsticks.) Well this is certainly a first, she thought. He never voluntarily footed the bill, even though he was the oldest and the only one with a legitimate income.

Could this be a sign of things to come? The revelation of a new more mature Jackson? One that controlled his bodily gasses liberally and abided by a stricter doctrine in regards to his personal hygiene?

For whatever reason the thought intrigued her. Lilly grinned and was about to offer some positive reinforcement, which she'd learned in psychology last week worked wonders on someone with the mentality of a toddler, when with the flick of his wrist he overturned the tray dumping four individually wrapped fortune cookies onto the zodiac placemat in front of him. Not even sparing a glance at the scrap of paper that had occupied the space beneath them he placed the tray in the middle of the table; forgotten. The smile froze on her face as she watched him devour the first overly philosophical morsel in the span of a heartbeat.

"Anybody want their cookies?" he asked, almost as an afterthought when two of them were already but crumbs on his lips, not waiting for their answers he was already reaching for the third.

When the disillusionment that had flooded her ebbed confusion settled in its place. What did she care anyway? And what had put the ridiculous notion that Jackson would suddenly start holding doors open for her and complimenting her proficiency with a skateboard in her head anyway? That wasn't something she wanted.

Was it?

A wheezing sound jarred her back to reality feeling unfulfilled, as if she'd come just short of reaching an epiphany. Across from her she saw the origin of the sound had been non-other than the source of her inner conflict himself. He beat his chest a couple of time like a primitive caveman before hocking up a sodden white scroll of infinite wisdom.

As this occurred on a regular basis when dining with the only Stewart who had yet to master the mechanics of chewing before swallowing Lilly maintained an unwaveringly neutral expression bordering on apathy throughout the ordeal as she used her napkin to wipe cookie bits from her nose with all the patience of a saint. In her peripheral vision she saw Miley and Oliver were similarly unperturbed by Jackson's most recent brush with death, leaning towards each other over the table they were both deeply immersed in tip-calculation-quadradynamics. The blushing glances the later occasionally cast going completely unnoticed by the former.

Using his fist to straighten out the small paper and clear it of excess moisture Jackson then held it up for observation. "You are the object of someone's affections. Keep your eyes open," he recited.

Lilly's heart skipped a beat at the fortune that rang uncharacteristically true and hit closer to home then she was entirely comfortable with. He chose that exact moment to spontaneously look deeply into her eyes and flash her a charming smile! She forgot how to breath. But his gaze didn't linger, moving fluidly to the other two occupants of their table. "Didja hear that Miles? I'm the object of someone's affections."

Since Jackson was a lost cause and Lilly had picked up the tab last time Miley and Oliver had been arguing over rights to the bill, upon hearing her name called Miley was momentarily distracted allowing Oliver the split second he needed to deposit the amount, tip included, on the tray before handing it off to the server who'd been waiting in the wings ready to swoop. Despite Miley's then half-hearted glare he looked proud of himself. "Sure you are Jackson," she said when she turning to her brother, her smile deceitfully sweet. "Just keep telling yourself you're an awesome dude. And maybe one day you'll meet a girl who'll really desperate."

Clearly put out by her response but not wanting to admit it Jackson retorted; "I _am_ an awesome dude."

His pout made Lilly smile. As they were all clamoring out of their booth she grasped the discarded fortune's corner grudgingly between her thumb and forefinger. Stopping Jackson with a hand on his shoulder she held it out to him, after a pause he let her drop it into his open palm. In response to his questioning gaze she shrugged. "I dunno. Something tells me you should listen to it. Play the lucky numbers or something."

Jackson felt very much like he did on the day his teacher introduced geometry into math as he watched Lilly walk around him and out the door. The numbers and the letters just didn't add up to any sense. He looked down at the crumpled paper next hoping it would offer some insight but it only offered a Chinese-English translation of: **change**.

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**A/N**: fluff fluff fluff. I wanna make a bed out of it and sleep in it. Reviews give me pleasent dreams~


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